


The Sky Does Not Open to Reveal God

by stagnation13 (Bellalaine)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellalaine/pseuds/stagnation13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel makes love to Jack for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sky Does Not Open to Reveal God

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely mornincamper's birthday, written 11-19-2009.

Jack has never asked me. Ever. I don't know if he's incapable of asking, or he doesn't know how, or if he's so tied up in his Roman ideas of sexuality he feels he either can't or shouldn't. I don't blame him, to be honest. I think it's the military who established his mind as nothing but an Alpha Male. Well, mission accomplished: Jack is a total bad ass, total alpha male, the perfect picture of a flyboy (as long as he keeps his mouth shut).

Unfortunately for the USAF, Jack has certain needs beneath the bad ass alpha male persona. Unfortunately for Jack, the USAF has spent years teaching him how to think and feel, so he doesn't know how to address certain needs. I've seen him try, the poor man. He opens his mouth and then he gets all flustered and red and then he clams up.

No doubt about it, I know he wants me to make love to him. I know this.

Our first time with penetrative sex there was no question who was going to do what. No one asked, no one told, and I didn't care. I loved penetrative sex, was very responsive to it, and could get off without any other stimulation to my body. Hell yes I was flat on my back with my legs in the air before either of us could begin to consider who was going to be on top. Or bottom. Jack didn't hesitate one minute once I made my intentions clear: he lubed up and slowly sank into me and for the first time in my life I KNEW without a doubt that God existed because I saw His face.

Twice that night I saw His face.

All right. I admit I am one to hog the bottom spot. I never thought Jack minded in the least because each and every time we made love I experience the most shattering pleasure I had ever known. Smug is not a good look on him, but it's a frequent one. Honestly, who else can say they've had multiple orgasms from having the long, heavy cock of a flyboy working your very depths?

I can raise my hand, no problem.

Yet Jack never said a word, initially. He was not feeling left out of the pleasure factor, no not at all. He would have these long, amazingly hard orgasms that would leave him silent and still for about a quarter of an hour, then he would bounce up ready to take on the world. I know he wasn't suffering, he was just as pleasured as I was. I was tight and responsive to either his most gentle or most pounding thrusts and from his howls I knew he was enjoying himself.

So his want for being penetrated isn't about the pleasure. At least I don't think it is. I think he needs to feel me inside of him. I think he needs the pressure, the fullness, the helplessness one feels when being penetrated. From the first time we ever made love to the last time, each time he initially slides into me, I feel that my soul is being opened and I am allowing him in. Granted, when he's buried inside me we can't get any closer.

Possession. I am thinking that's what it is.

I like to think that I have always belonged to Jack. I was always "his" archeologist or "his" linguist and even though I wanted to smack him half the time for being overprotective of me I knew I was safe with him. Sure I gritted my teeth when he would get all territorial but my displeased reaction was an act. I couldn't have anyone give me shit for actually liking the way Jack treated me.

I did, though. He made me feel special and safe and that I belonged. So when we finally quit tiptoeing around one another and got into this relationship of ours, and he finally lay me down into a nest of pillows and took me gently, I knew I belonged to him. He was claiming me, marking me as his, and when I felt him come deep inside, his orgasm going on forever, I knew I was his. I remember sneaking out of bed later and standing in front of the full length mirror on his closet door, staring in amazement as his come dripped out of my bottom, down the inside of my thighs. The sight of all that come leaking out of me got me hard all over again.

I think, now, he needs the same feeling from me. I just really want him to ask me to make love to him. I don't want to have to guess, I need him to ask me. I'm not going to assume that's what he wants; he needs to make his needs known to me. Hell, if I can look into his eyes and admit to the fact that I liked to be spanked he can sure ask me to make love to him.

Eventually he did. It took a whole lot of effort, and he blushed furiously and he couldn't look me in the eyes when he did, but he told me he needed me inside of him. He even said please. I smiled, took his hand and led him to the bedroom and proceeded to devour him. I knew it wasn't his first time with penetration, but I knew it had been a while, so after I got him all relaxed and happy I worked my cock inside of him and didn't move for a moment while he got used to me.

That's when he completely fell apart.

I have never heard so much noise come out of the man. Ever. When he's inside me he's quiet because he likes to listen to me make enough noise for the both of us, and listening to me is a big turn on for him since he's the reason why I am so vociferous. He wasn't in pain, I knew that, but what he was feeling was almost too much for him. I slid back and forth slowly, watching his face. His cock was harder than I had ever seen it, and was dripping profusely. I knew he was feeling what I felt each and every time he made love to me.

Complete pleasure, trust, love and the explicable feeling of being opened.

I did everything in my power to not come, but he was so tight and responsive that counting backward in Latin wasn't helping. I inadvertently found his prostate and I didn't have to worry about my own control anymore. In an instant his breathy cries stopped and his entire body locked up, his back arching so severely I couldn't see his eyes anymore as they were pressed into the pillow beneath his head. He then erupted in convulsions that nearly knocked me out of him. I held on as best I could as he yelled at the top of his lungs as spurt after spurt of thick, creamy come flew out of his cock and landed anywhere it could. His balls were still emptying themselves when my own orgasm hit when I was as deep as I could go inside of him.

I passed out, which is pretty standard for me. An orgasm usually wipes me out and I need a good hour nap at least to get my brain back on line. Jack needs at most 15 minutes before he's up and ready for a fight or a frolic.

I came up from consciousness enough to feel him leave my arms and our bed. I figured he was heading to the bathroom but after a while I heard him say, "Jesus", under his breath. With much effort, I raised my head to see what he was doing.

He was staring at himself in the full length mirror, watching wide-eyed as my come dripped out of his bottom and slid down his thighs. He got hard all over again.

Smiling, I dropped my head back down into my nest of pillows. I obviously needed to work on the smug thing.


End file.
